Under Pressure
by OrangeNinjaAttack
Summary: Percy Jackson hated it, but here he was. Mentoring. Again. He won his Games by pushing the fact that he was killing children out of his mind. How will he mentor Finnick Odair, a man who is as smart as he is sexy, in this year's Games? Will Finnick live? (Annie is appearing in later chapters.) Rated T for bad themes, aka children killing each other.
1. New Beginnings

I know, I know, I know. Why am I starting another story when I haven't even finished 4 others? Because... well I guess I don't really have an answer for that. Basically, I'm kinda stuck on those 4, but I'm working on it, and this story is to let you know I'm alive. I'm alive! Hi! Anyways. The synopsis:

**_Percy Jackson hated it, but here he was. Mentoring. Again. He won his Games by pushing the fact that he was killing children out of his mind. How will he mentor Finnick Odair, a man who is as smart as he is sexy? Will Finnick live?_**

So, anyways. Thought this was a good idea. Let me know if there's a fic out there like this, or if you hate it. If no one likes it, I'll just take it down.

Yay! I might ignore you if you say this is a dumb story and just continue it anyways. Thanks! Hopefully the first chapter will be done by next week or so? Not really sure. High school has sadly been giving me a buttload of homework, along with swim practice for 2-3 hours a night... We'll see.

So! Review, review, review, please! They make the fic world go round!

ONA


	2. Submerging

_Under Pressure, chapter one: Submerging_

* * *

_Breathing heavily, Percy - or Perseus, as the Capitol called him - fell to his knees. He had finally slain the last beast between him and home. An 18-year-old, muscley, hulk of a mutt, meant to represent the boy from District 2. And he had gotten rid of the beast's allies too. A beautifully terrible girl from 1 and a small, agile, and able beast also from 1.  
He had gotten them all.  
Sighing in relief of being free from the mutts, he looked around. Where were the rest of the tributes? Wouldn't the Gamemakers be moving them all towards the Cornucopia?  
Perseus' gaze rested on the final beast's body again. Why did he look familiar?  
And the suppressed memories all came rushing back to him. This was the boy from District 2, not a mechanical replica. He used to be a living, breathing person, with a full life ahead of him. His allies used to be, too. Perseus blanched.  
But that younger girl from 8 had died, not because of Perseus; because of the District 2 boy. This justified his kill. He had killed Perseus' young ally. And their trio had destroyed the majority of the tributes in the arena. That meant it was okay for them to die, right? The eldest had put up a good fight and Perseus almost didn't win.  
He thought back to the battle. The younger boy was taken out first when Perseus threw a dagger from a tree. Then the girl had found him, and had tried climbing the tree. Perseus had throw another dagger and taken her down, quickly and painlessly. There was no mercy in those kills, but in the method of killing. Then the older boy had waited, until the Gamemakers got tired of it and started disintegrating the tree from the top. Perseus had quickly climbed down, and the sword battle had started, and ended a few quick minutes later with a stab through the heart. Mercy in method. The gong had rang out and Mr. Templesmith had declared Perseus Jackson from District Four the winner of the 58th Hunger Games.  
Perseus had started to sob, thinking of all the dead children because of him. He had thought they were mutts. How could he do that to other teens, other teens who had families, friends, and signicant others to go back to? Had the devil taken his soul?  
They were only out to get him because each tribute had the same goal: get out alive. Getting out alive required other tributes dying. Percy was the only one still with a check in the box labeled "alive." He was the only one to fulfill all the requirements to being a Victor.  
Perseus grinned slightly through his tears, thinking of the Victor's Village back home. He would get to live there now. But at what price? His humanity, his soul, his sanity? Or all three?  
Then the hovercraft had arrived, and Perseus had grabbed the ladder. His muscles locked, and once unlocked, he moved to the windows, sea-green eyes taking in the view of the Arena from the above. Then there was a wall at the edge of the Arena, and then the windows blacked out, along with Perseus.  
While he was out, they fixed his broken right arm (from falling out of a tree to avoid poisonous tree frogs - their tongues were almost as bad as tracker jacker stings), and mended all of his bruised skin. When he finally came to, there was not a single imperfection on his body, or the body that he could see - he was in a hospital gown in what he presumed was the rehabilitation room at the Tribute Tower. Or maybe, now that he had won, he was in the Victor's Tower?  
He wasn't sure, and when his mentor (Squall Thompson) and escort (Hibiscus Thornburry) saw that he was awake, his question went both unasked and unanswered. They pestered him, asking questions about what they called the "Arena experience." Was it ferocious? Cold? Brutal? How did he feel when the other tributes died? The girl from 8? The boy from 1? Finally, he just asked for some food, and Hibiscus fell all over herself, apologizing about her "appalling" manners. She left, saying she would get something from each food group, whatever that meant. All Perseus knew was that he was absolutely starving. Squall chatted (to himself - it was pretty one-sided) about how the seafood production had went down because all the population of 4 had been watching the riveting finale, and none of the citizens would even think of working instead of watching their amazing tribute when he was in the final four. Finally, he asked Perseus if he was really okay. Like, if he had gone under a psyche-transforming journey in the Arena or something.  
Perseus shrugged. "I feel different... but at the same time, I still feel like the boy who left home a month ago. I just want to go back and act like nothing even happened, but everyone will look at me differently, you know? Now I'm the 17-year-old killer." He sighed.  
"It sucks for a little while. The Capitol's in your face until after the Victory Tour finishes. And if you're desirable enough to the Capitolites, pretty enough, they'll use you for-"  
Hibiscus bursts into the room again. "I brought lots of meat, and fruit, and veggies, because I just didn't know what you liked. Oh, and there's a cookie for when you're finished, but only for when you're finished." Perseus didn't know what a cookie was, but he didn't think it would last 30 seconds longer. He devoured everything on his plate before eating the cookie that Hibiscus handed him.  
And that was his first day out of the Arena._

* * *

**Well. That was faster than I expected! I hope you like how I decided to write Percy's POV. Not sure when I'll release the next chapter, it's not written yet. Let me know if you like again, thanks!**

**(Huge thanks to LORD JACKSON 8426 for being the first to fave this story!)**

**ONA**


	3. Harvesting

_7 years later._

Beep beep, beep beep! I groan and slap my hand over the snooze button. Just ten more minutes. I was up late last night getting ready, can't I just sleep a little more? I smack the alarm clock again. Where is that freaking snooze button...

"PERSEUS! Get out here RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" shouts my former escort, Hibiscus. "We've got a huge day ahead of us, and I can't afford to be held back by a dumb 24-year-old such as yourself! Now GET DRESSED and MEET ME FOR BREAKFAST!" I can hear her stalk down the hall, clearly frustrated that I'm a half hour late. I just want some sleep!

I groan again and clamber out of bed. Resigning to do as Hibiscus wishes, because I shouldn't get on her bad side, I get dressed in the best-looking clothes I can find, and walk out the door.  
When she sees me in the dining room, she sighs, turns up her nose, and looks away.

I grab a plate and stack it completely full of any food I see. I collapse into the seat next to Hibiscus and start shoving the food into my mouth. She sighs again, clearly disgusted by my "lack of manners."

"You know, I'm sorry if we're late," I say, after devouring something delicious called a pancake, "but you also know I'm not a morning person."

This breaks her façade and she grins. "I'm just so glad you're back, I've really missed you these past months."

I smile back. "I've missed you, but not the job. I never enjoy watching our Careers get mauled." Women in our district have a higher survival percentage than men in the Arena, but we still usually last less than 3 weeks. The average Games are just over a month long.

Hibiscus frowns again. "I love watching them survive, though. Your Game is one of my favorites," Squall walks in and kisses Hibiscus on the cheek - they've had a fling for years - "and Squall's Game is my other favorite." He smiles and puts a piece of her namesake into her hair, which matches her Reaping Day outfit perfectly. Well, from what I can tell, it matches. I've never had a good sense of style.

Hibiscus stands up, eyeing my outfit distastefully. I guess it didn't match then.

"Well, I'm off to make sure that the Justice Building is all prepped for this afternoon. Be there by 1:45 please! Tata!" She exits the train with a flourish of the hand, and the door slides shut behind her.

"I'm gonna do it, you know," Squall grins. "How does Hibiscus Thompson sound to you?"

I almost drop my glass of something called orange juice. "Really? How soon?"

"After the Reaping today. Or is that a bad plan?"

I smirk. "More publicity for her."

Squall chuckles and flips around the chair next to me, straddling it. "So, how's the Victor life been treating you?" he asks with a knowing look in his eyes.

"It's fabulous," I say sarcastically. "So fabulous, in fact, that every weekend last month, I paid visits to Ms. Christi Diamond, and we spent over 72 hours together each time, if you know what I mean."

Squall nods understandingly. "It gets easier as you go."

I shrug. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

He sighs. "No. It doesn't." Grabbing a handful of grapes, he announces he'll be in his room changing.

I shovel a little bit more food into my mouth, clearing my plate entirely, and go back to my room. How the heck do I match an outfit?

* * *

I struggle with clothes for a good forty-five minutes before finally knocking on Squall's door. He answers with a grin on his face. "Outfit troubles? Let me help." He follows me to my room, and within 5 minutes, I'm absolutely ready to go.

"It's a lot harder than it looks," I grumble.

Squall just laughs. "It'll get easier as you go, too."

* * *

By the time 1:40 rolls around, Squall and I are ready to go. We walk to the Justice Building, and Hibiscus is patiently waiting for us.

"The Reaping ceremony will be starting at 2 o'clock. I need you boys to adjust the stage so that it looks perfect." Hibiscus starts walking back a few paces from the stage. "Move those chairs a few feet to the left... a few inches to the right... great. Now the bowls and stands are backstage, bring those out front please, center them on two sides please." Squall and I find the empty bowls and stands backstage and center them as requested. Hibiscus then proceeds to drag out two large cardboard boxes. From what I can tell, there are thousands of white paper strips inside. Each one is folded in half, with a small black rectangle on the back. These are the Reaping slips.

Hibiscus unceremoniously dumps each box of slips into its respective bowl. The female bowl is tinted rose, and the male bowl is tinted sky blue.  
The children start to trickle into their sections.

"Alright. I think you boys are done! Come sit on the stage please." Hibiscus calls to us. We each take our respective seats and wait for 2:00 to arrive.

Finally, the big clock tower in the center of the city rings, and it's time to start the Reaping.

* * *

Hibiscus walks up to the microphone and taps it a few times to make sure it's on. "Welcome, District Four, to the 65th Annual Hunger Games Reaping! May the odds be ever in your favour! Now, for the ladies." She walks over to the rose-tinted bowl, and slowly, she draws a carefully selected slip out of the mass of white.

"Rebecca Neverprins," is announced, and I can hear the relieved girls sigh. A small girl, easily mistaken for only 15, comes from the 17-year-old section. She's shaking slightly, but has the muscles to be accepted into this year's Career pack.

Finally, Hibiscus walks over to the blue bowl. "And for this year's male tribute, we have..."

She's really dragging this out. Her hand stirs through the slips, looking for the perfect name. Snatching one out of the sea of slips, she enthusiastically calls out the boy's name.

"Finnick Odair!"

* * *

**Well! What a page turner! Just kidding. This one only got really good at the end.**

**Just so y'all know, most of the story will be from Percy's POV, including while Finnick is in the Games. Let me know if you have a problem with that:)**

**Thanks for reading! Revuew if you wouldn't mind, they make the fic world go round!**

**ONA**


	4. Reunion

**Hi, welcome back! So glad that you're still reading this:)**  
**Alright, I just finished HoH, so if you haven't read it, ignore the italicizations. (That means you, LieutenantTeddy!)**  
**Ignore starting... HERE.**

**_Can I just say... NICO IS GAY?! WHAT? Don't get me wrong, I'm not against it or anything, it just a HUGE plot twister that I'm pretty sure no one saw coming. Also, PERCHABETH. Yay! They live! And I can't even state how glad I am that everyone else has survived so far. Plus, Frank... oh gods I bet he's really cute now ;) how awesome would a spontaneous growth spurt be? Anyways... Someone PM me about Nico! Please! I can't process anything else in the story until I get that off my chest. Thanks. Just ignore my fangirl spazzing. And PLEASE, Rick HAS to make Leyna a thing! Or Caleo... Whatever. One or the other because I ship them both! Asdfghjkl! Or a love triangle... That would be great._**

**Okay, back to the story now. Haha and sorry to that guest reviewer who asked if there would be Percabeth in here. No can do, sir (or ma'am). This is in the way distant future, and an extremely AU if I do say so myself. Sorry if that bursts your bubble. Maybe I'll change my mind if it fits the story line, lolz. However afterwards (after Finnick's Games, that is), there WILL be plenty of Fannick Credair... or however you say it. In my version, though, Annie doesn't go into the Games. Not yet, at least... Once again, I might change my mind.  
Man, if you read that author idea barf up there, then you deserve some blue cookies straight from Mrs Jackson's kitchen. (If that means Annabeth Jackson or Percy's mom, I'll leave that up to your imagination.)  
Also... It might seem like 5 years apart to be a lot, but if you think about it, it works. Trust me. Plus for this to work... The Reapings are around July, at least in my mind, and his birthday is in October. You'll see what I mean.  
I should stop procrastinating and write this chapter already. This author's note is way too long and fun.  
Deep breaths.  
Okay.  
Here we go for real now.**

* * *

_Finnick Odair. _Why does that name sound familiar? _Finnick Odair._

I try to delve into my memories and figure out why I recognize those four syllables. Finnick Odair. Suddenly, I remember.  
Finnick is one of those kids who's cool because they're uncool. Like me.  
We were the best of friends in elementary school, even though I was 5 years older. Our parents grew up together as well, which meant I always had a playmate even if I didn't want one. I remember being annoyed by him in first grade because once he learned to walk, he wouldn't leave me alone.  
Of course, once I was in junior high, we drifted apart. I haven't seen him in an extremely long time.  
Looks like that's going to change, although I wish it wasn't because of the Games.  
All of these thoughts rush through my head in a matter of seconds and I realize that a familiar head of bronze hair is climbing the stairs to the stage. An 18-year-old Finnick looks supremely confident in his skills. Cocky, but not too cocky. Little Finn was always charismatic, even in kindergarten, and I'm willing to bet that he knows exactly how to play the Capitol crowd from watching so many years of Games. He tosses his hair to the side and runs his fingers through it. Years of experience remind him that the ladies go absolutely ballistic for that. I grin. Same old, same old, for Finnick Odair.  
"H-hi," stutters Hibiscus as he turns the full glare of his pearly whites onto her.  
"Hello," he says in a seductively deep voice, knowing how to work up the crowd.  
Hibiscus almost faints on the spot.  
"Alright then!" Squall says, taking control of this situation. "We - well, I - just have one last thing for you today." He pivots from facing the audience to facing Hibiscus, and pulls out a small, midnight blue, velour box.  
Dropping down to one knee, he smiles nervously. "Hibiscus, I've been head over heels for you ever since we met. I love your laugh, your smile, your everything. Will you do me the honor of being my wife, and marry me?"  
Hibiscus is tearing up and she breaks into a grin. "Of course! Yes, I will marry you!"  
The crowd, including Finnick and I, all simultaneously "aww."  
The new fiancées hug and the crowd cheers. The Districts may hate the Capitol, but they don't hate love, and Hibiscus is one of the few good people of the Capitol.  
The Peacekeepers finally realize that this would make President Snow mad if this was televised, and so they usher Rebecca and Finnick into the Justice Building. Finnick is waving and blowing kisses in random directions into the crowd, and some of the more, should I say, lustful girls are almost starting a riot, trying to catch the kisses. This causes the Peacekeepers in the crowd to hurry the dispersing citizens to their homes to enjoy their day off, and I can't help but chuckle. Only Finnick Odair.  
Finally, he's shoved through the doors of the Justice Building and the girls all turn away, almost bawling at the thought that Finnick might die. How has he captured their hearts so completely?  
I dawdle around the stage for a while before moving to the train. All I have left to do today is get Finnick from his hour of visitation after it's done. He'll surely have tons of girls wanting to visit him.  
After a few minutes of reclining on the couch, I groan. This will be a long hour.

* * *

"Finnick," I say as I open the doors. He just grins shakily and hugs me in response.  
"Perce," comes a muffled sob from my shoulder.  
"I know, I know. It's hard. But we have to go now." I reassure, but I'm not the best at being comforting, so I'm not sure it worked until he lets go of me and rubs his eyes. He nods and I follow him out. "First door on your left," I mutter. He hears me and we make it to the train unscathed, except for a few billion photographs.  
Once the door is safely shut behind me, I see Squall and Rebecca have already made it back. They all trade introductions and Finnick and I sit on the couch.  
"So, kid, who came to see you?" Squall starts out, always one to jump right into the conversation.  
Finnick smirks. "My family, and a few girls I know."  
"By a few do you mean the whole population?" I say, suppressing a chuckle.  
He laughs, and I realize it's the first time I've heard that sound. It sounds perfectly... Finnick-like. "There were a lot, I guess. Nothing I'm not used to."  
Suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, Rebecca sobs.  
"Nobody came to see her," Squall says with a forlorn look. Rebecca looks absolutely crestfallen.  
"That's all right!" I say clapping her on the back. "We can show them, eh? Maybe you'll win."  
She shakes her head. "How can I win against the likes of Finnick Odair? Besides, it wouldn't be worth it."  
"Why not?" asks Hibiscus, who enters the room right as Rebecca's finishing her sentence.  
She hesitates, being a typically softspoken person. "Because... because of all the PSTD. I don't think I could live with myself. If I survived and 23 others had to die for me to live, it just wouldn't be right." Somehow, I get the feeling that she's holding something back. But I don't push her. Some things are meant to remain a mystery, and plus, we can't have a meltdown on our hands if one of these two are going to survive the next month and a half.  
"What's PTSD?" Hibiscus asks, and the potential crisis is averted.  
"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," Finnick mumbles half-heartedly. "We come across it all the time in survivors of shark attacks, hurricanes, the works."  
"Oh," she says. "That doesn't sound nearly as fun as Pony Trail Surprise Date."  
Squall bursts into a fit of laughter, and we all join in after a moment. Only Hibiscus looks confused as to what was so funny, but she laughs anyways.  
"I will take you on your version of a PSTD someday," promises Squall when he's done wiping the tears from his eyes.  
"Fabulous!" she bursts out, causing another round of the giggles.

* * *

After dinner, I pull Rebecca aside.  
"Rebecca, I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you want to talk." Her cheeks go bright red. "You know, about why you wouldn't want to go home..." I trail off as I notice that her blush hasn't lessened. "What's wrong?"  
Her cheeks are tomato red now, and it doesn't seem like she's going to share why. Then I look around.  
We're in my bedroom.  
By ourselves.  
"No, that's not what I wanted at all!" I exclaim quickly, my face matching the color of hers. She simply laughs and leaves. I sigh. There must be something she's hiding. But what?  
I change into my pajamas and try to relax in bed.  
A few hours later, I still can't find sleep.  
I grab a robe and head out to the kitchen, only to find Finnick sitting at the dining room table with his hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate. He nods in greeting before I can break the silence.  
An Avox comes up to me, and I request a hot chocolate. When she brings it back, I smile at all the marshmallows and thank her.  
Turning around and straddling a chair, I sigh. "What's got you so down, Finn?"  
"I just... I just don't think I can do it, you know?" he says with a lost look in his eyes.  
I know exactly how he feels.  
"That was how I felt seven years ago. Now look where I am," I say quietly, gesturing around me, "and I'm still not sure I can do this. I can't stand the idea of you dying, Finn. It just doesn't make sense to my brain. You've always been around."  
He nods. "When you were in the arena, I regretted not talking to you." He pauses. "I really missed you and thought you were ignoring me because you were in high school." he finally admits softly.  
We aren't really people for late-night admissions. It must be the hot cocoa.  
I chuckle. "I don't know what my issue was then. How could I pass up the mighty Finnick Odair?"  
"I don't know," he says, suppressing a smile.  
"What worries you the most about this?"  
He hesitates. "Losing my soul. I don't think I can murder innocent people without losing it, or my mind, or becoming a monster. I just don't know which one will happen yet."  
"Everyone goes a little crazy eventually," I say, adding in, "especially me."  
"What kept you sane?"  
"Fishing." I reply honestly. "It kept my mind at home, anchored it there, and yet... I could accept all that I had done. I was helping save other kid's lives by mentoring, and that kind of made up for what I did in my arena. Granted, the demons didn't leave me. They still live with me. But I've learned to put up with them and accept them."  
Finnick takes a shaky breath. "I want to... I want to be like you, but not the same." It's a few moments before he elaborates, composing the sentences in his head. "I want to live, and I want to win. But I don't want to be haunted by memories of people that I'll only know for a few weeks at most. I don't want their lives to needlessly end. But what else can I do? It's not like I have a choice if I want to come out of there alive." I nod. "So train hard and hope that there's a trident in the Cornucopia? Make allies? What do I do?"  
"Ally with the other Careers for as long as you think you can trust them. During training, pick up some survival skills. And yeah, you'll have to pray for some fishing tools in there. Just survive, Finn."  
"Well, on that happy note, bottoms up." he says, draining the rest of his hot chocolate. "I'll see you in the morning."  
Green eyes meet green eyes as I stand, having finished my own cup. Suddenly, he hugs me. After a moment I return the embrace.  
"It's been too long, Perce," he sighs.

* * *

**And there we have it folks! Thanks for reading. Review if you wouldn't mind, they really make my day!**

**ONA**


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